Thousand Words
by Kirjava Deamon
Summary: A thousand words she could speak, a thousand words to tell her sorrow, a thousand words to tell of her loves. A thousand words to warn from taking her path." A Cho fic, thinking about everything she did only to add to nothing.(complete)


****

**Thousand Words**

_By Kirjava Deamon_

****

****

**.**

**.**

**.**

****

_A chain in the grass. _

_Enigma._

How bittersweet, to always be dropped and forgotten, left alone in grass, but yet never see the cruelties of life until they hit on in the face. Being hidden by grass, a weak façade that I still believed A rusting chain in the grass, never to see danger until too late, that's was what killed me in the end. A rusting chain in the grass.

During Hogwarts I was obvious to all outsiders. My family never had death or financial problems, so I never had to worry. I had never seen death, as wizards could almost live forever and the Chang family was even older than the Malfoy blood line. I simply lived life in a false, never to understand anything but textbook.

That was…until I found my first love, the first that died. He died apparently at the hands of my second love, the emerald eyed boy then, man now.

_I stand on his grave, placing a single rose on his grave, thorns and petals. Death and romance. I stand here, by his side, Cedric Diggory. _

**.**

**.**

**.**

_A sour tangerine._

_Life. _

I opened my eyes to the world around me when I was sixteen. At sixteen when I was dating my emerald eyed hero did I finally see beyond the grass. When my friend betrayed us for gossip of him and when my parents were killed in an attack by Voldemort. I have nothing now; I fear not his name as an old woman.

A sour tangerine, by seventeen there was nothing left in my life. I was Head Girl, Prefect of course, best grades, popular, and graduated with job offerings in Quidditch and industry and honors. I had everything anyone could possibly hope for, but my latter ran out. I was at the top of the world, I was the girl everyone wanted for some reason or another, but I was dead really. I only could walk, not speak. Life gave me what I didn't want, I wanted my green eyes but he left my life long, after my friend betrayed him. Life really unfolded to a sour tangerine.

_I knelt by Cedric's neighbor's grave, placing a single lily on the grave, his mother's name and the flower of mourning. Death struck here. I stand here, by his side, Harry Potter. _

**.**

**.**

**.**

_A dragon's eye._

_Love. _

I was only twenty-one when I joined England's Quidditch team. Also on the team was one and only, Draco Malfoy. At first he would taunt me only on my achievements, but soon he was a friend. A loyal friend, the best thing besides the green eyed hero. How could anyone ever forget the feeling of a first touch, first kiss, first laugh and first tear? I never forget, but that may just me as a Ravenclaw. But life was a sour tangerine.

A dragon's eye. His gray eyes led even further than his name, _Draco, _dragon. His dragon eyes could pierce, that may just be the reason he came to me, seeing the empty room behind my glassy ones. I still feel as though my heart is missing, and has been for the past forever. I don't remember being a child, as I don't remember ever feeling glad or happy. My loves are taken from me.

Draco died in battle. He was on the Order's side but was killed only by his own kid, a gruesome death. I saw red. He died by the jade eyed hero, defending him. Defending his enemy, his rival for me. A dragon never is un-loyal. I saw it in his eyes, dragon eyes.

_I walk over to where the bend in the rode begins; beside it is a single head-stone. I drop no flower; a single tear takes the flower's place. I reminisce him here, touching my hand. My third love is dead. I stand here, by his side, Draco Malfoy. _

An old woman hobbles out, now a forgotten face to the world, wrinkled by bitterness. Once such a beauty, now barely noticeable to any young eyes. Her long hair, now white, the moon once being the night spills from her cloak's hood as her face strays downward. Facing the cold wind's night, a face is lifted upward in desperate hope to the heavens above us, she sighs as a tear strips down her old face. A thousand words she could speak, a thousand words to tell her sorrow, a thousand words to tell of her loves. A thousand words to warn from taking her path.

_Her name is Cho Chang._

_And that is me._


End file.
